A Centaur's Pride
by Pachamama9
Summary: Peter decides to go after the Marauders as they explore the Forbidden Forest, but he gets lost. A centaur finds him. One-shot.


**A/N: Peter Pettigrew goes into the Forbidden Forest on his own, looking for Sirius, James, and Remus.**

 **Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - Astronomy (Task 3) - Write about a snowy winter day/night.**

 **A/N: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.**

* * *

Peter Pettigrew had always been the quiet, observant one. Remus was studious, but funny. Sirius was loud and brash. James was outgoing and brave. Peter was… Well, Peter _wanted_ to be just like them, but he could never work up the courage. It was almost poetic how he had been placed in Gryffindor but never had a speck of courage.

When Sirius, Remus, and James decided to sneak into the Forbidden Forest in the dead of night, Peter shook his head furiously. "I-I can't," he said. "I couldn't."

James snorted and gave him a playful shove. "C'mon, Wormtail, it'll be fun! Even Moony's coming."

Upon the mention of his name, Remus gave a nonchalant shrug, as though he didn't care he would enter the most perilous part of Hogwarts.

Peter shook his head again. "No, no, I can't. We could die out there! There are—there are monsters out there, a-and acromantulas a-and—"

And although James repeatedly attempted to persuade him to come with them, even bribing him with sweets, Peter told him he wouldn't go.

So as he sat alone in the common room, trying to bury himself in a fictional novel about incredible wizards and courageous knights, but he couldn't get the idea out of his head. He had to join them in the Forbidden Forest, no matter how scared he was. He didn't want them to go without him.

So he transformed into his Animagus form, a rat, and scurried out of the school and into his worst nightmare.

It was already past midnight, so the sky was pitch black, with nothing but a sliver of the pale moon lighting his way. He shivered, for it was already November. Snow littered the dirt path, covering his tracks as it fell. Peter glanced behind himself, nervous; if there were no tracks, how would they find him if he died in the Forbidden Forest? He shivered again and walked faster. Once he found the other Marauders, everything would be alright. Everything would be fine.

An hour later, he still hadn't found them, and his fingers were numb with cold. Merlin, he wanted to be back in his dormitory right now, buried under the warm covers… He blew on his fingers. He wished he knew that spell for fire. As he tried to light his wand with a Lumos spell (he knew he should have paid more attention in Charms), he stumbled over a root and fell hard, smashing his head into the ground. Warmth spilled down the side of his head and bells rang in his ears. His brain felt swollen, like it was too big for his skull. Merlin, he wished James and Sirius were here… His skull was filled with turbulent waves, sloshing and screaming… He wished… Sirius and James… They would know… What to… Do…

* * *

An odd scraping sound awoke Peter, and he found himself next to a crackling fire, where a centaur was scraping her front hoof against an enormous, flat stone. She was crushing something with her hoof, he realized, and she swept it into a bowl with one swift movement. Startled by her and overwhelmed by a sudden tide of fear, Peter let out a tiny whimper.

The centaur looked up sharply. She was a honey-colored centaur, with long brown hair braided down her back and olive skin. She smiled at him, approaching him with a clay bowl of a strange green substance.

She smiled at him. "Drink, young one," she said, holding out the bowl to him. "There is no need to be afraid."

Peter wasn't in any state to refuse her. His head was bursting with pain, and he was tightly wrapped in a warm blanket. As he looked around him, he recognized that he was in a centaur camp, Dozens of half-man, half-horse creatures trotted around the camp, most gathering by the fire in the center. He accepted whatever it was as the female centaur pushed it against his lips, and drank. The concoction tasted terrible and bitter, but after he was done, he felt the agony in his head subside.

"You cracked your skull when you fell, young one." The centaur's voice was soft and sweet, like the honey color of her coat. "This will help you."

"Thank you," he mumbled.

"What were you doing so far from your home?" she asked. Her massive eyes did not blink as she spoke. "And poorly dressed for the weather, I might add."

Peter swallowed. "I got lost… I was trying to find my friends, but it was so cold, and I…" He touched his head absentmindedly and found that his wound was covered by soft strips of cloth. "Sorry."

She shook her head, and her braids swished over her shoulder. "There is no need for apologies, young one. Centaurs are not too proud to care for the injured young of the humans. We will return you to your humans once you have recovered.

He took another sip from the clay bowl. "How long will that take?"

This time, her smile was clever, almost mischievous. "We have more healing prowess in our camp than any human possesses. Your head will have fully healed within the hour."

The smashing of bells in his ears was merely uncomfortable now; he felt sure he could get up and walk if he wanted to. "Thank you," said Peter.

The honey-colored centaur began to respond, but another centaur marched before her and interrupted. "I see you've picked up another stray, Milena," he said. His voice was slippery. "Haven't we spoken about this habit of yours?"

"He was injured, Tigran," she declared, raising her chin. "I will not cling to the pride of our race if it means I have to let a human die on a relentless winter's night."

Tigran, the male centaur, was a gorgeous red-brown color with a black mane and golden eyes. He snorted angrily at Milena, the female. "If he's obtuse enough to go wandering through our territory in the middle of winter, then I say he deserves to die."

Milena's dark eyes shone with fury. "No yearling deserves to die, Tigran. Not even human ones."

"This human is no yearling, Milena! Look at him!" Tigran tossed his long, inky hair to one side and glared at Peter. "How old are you, human?"

"T-twelve," stammered Peter.

"See?" Milena stomped her hoof. "He's five years from human adulthood!"

"It's a human!"

"He's only a yearling!"

"But it's a—" Milena cut him off, tearing her knife from its leather sheath and pointing at another small, dark brown centaur only a few hundred feet away. "If Samvel had injured himself on human territory, wouldn't you want them to heal him?"

Tigran's nostrils flared, and he snorted once before cantering away. Milena gave Peter a small smirk, and then motioned for him to hand her the bowl.

"Who's Samvel?" Peter asked, handing her the bowl.

She filled it with a second, blue-colored liquid before answering him. "Our son. He's about your age in the years of a centaur." She sighed. "On occasion, Tigran forgets that the suffering of another still retains its validity. Especially when we speak of humans." She handed it back. "Drink, now. Then we can get you back on the path to Hogwarts."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Milena escorted Peter to the outskirts of the centaur's territory. "Stay safe, young one," she told him. "Take this. It will protect your in your times of need." She held up a charm, bound with turquoise twine. In the center, there was a glistening, dark green gem.

He took the talisman from her and nodded slowly, so he wouldn't jostle his sore head. "Thank you, thank you...for everything."

She smiled again. "Don't wander in the Forbidden Forest, young one. The thrill of danger is never worth one's life." Then she raced away, kicking up snow and dirt in her wake.

Peter shivered as the snowfall grew heavy, and shook the snow from his hair. Without Milena to rescue him… He didn't want to think about what might have happened. He found the path back to Hogwarts and hoped the Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs were all lost in the forest. He felt superior, somewhat, for he had something that they didn't have.

He touched the wrapped wound on his head gingerly. It all might have been an breathtaking dream if not for small stains of blood on his cloak. Peter Pettigrew grinned, victorious, and began the trek back to the school.

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 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Please favorite, follow, and review!**

 **Challenges used:**

 **Make Your Own Pizza (Step 1) -** **(character) Peter Pettigrew**

 **Chocolate Frog Cards Club - (Gold) Centaur - Write about a character meeting a Centaur in the forbidden forest.**

 **365 Prompt Challenge - #364 (word) victorious**

 **Fanfiction Writing Month: October [1390]**

 **Insane House Challenge - #455 (Talisman)**

 **October Event: Gris-Gris Bag Station - (weather) snow**

 **Ship in a Bottle Day - #6 (turbulent, turquoise, tide)**

 **Conversation Starter Prompt Challenge - #43 (Include a character being wrapped in a nice, warm blanket in your fic.)**

 **If You Dare Challenge - #759 (moon)**

 **Build A Zoo Challenge - Dolphins (Peter Pettigrew)**

 **Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #273 (centaur)**

 **Character Diversity Boot Camp - #25 (strange), Peter Pettigrew**

 **Your Favorite House Boot Camp - #11 (observant), Gryffindor**


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